"If you think that I don't mean
Every word I'm saying
Don't, don't, don't, don't
Don't feel that way
I'm your love and yours I will stay
This you can believe
I will never leave you
Heaven knows I won't
Baby, don't say don't"
***
I've felt a bit flat today, not exactly sad but more so like I have that same cloud looming over my head again.
It always happens this time of year.
Harry has noticed my off mood throughout the day, giving me concerned glances and I've noticed him trying to be extra affectionate, clinging to me like a puppy and curling up with me on the couch to watch our movies.
"Joey?" he asks, sounding cautious while he he leaning back against the arm of the couch, with my back laying against his stomach and head on his chest as his fingers fiddle against the skin of my stomach under my shirt.
"That's my name, don't wear it out" I quip, keeping my eyes on the TV, wishing that just for once my brain would shut off.
Harry takes a deep breath, blessing his lips to the top of my head, sounding insecure about his next question.
"You've been kind of off today, like something is bothering you. Is it about last night? Is it bothering you? Are you okay with what happened?"
My brows drop, as I turn my head up to look at him and my heart sinks, he looks so worried.
"You mean is the fact I sucked my first dick bothering me?" I check, hating to see him look so concerned that I'd be upset about it.
He presses his lips together, nodding and I shake my head, making sure to hold his eye contact "That's not bothering me at all Harry okay? I enjoyed doing that with you, I don't regret it one bit, can't wait till I'm a pro at it and really know what I'm doing, I'll make that girl in that video look like an amature" I jest, but make sure I keep my voice earnest in the parts that matters so he knows I mean it.
Harry let's out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes "Please don't make me picture that, my heart and dick can't take it"
I grin, turning my face back to look at the TV and Harry traces his fingers in patterns over my stomach like he's spelling the alphabet "Don't know what m'gonna do, feel like some kind of addict, all I can't think about all day is touching you - I'd just keep you locked in the bedroom and never leave if I could" he murmurs.
I laugh under my breath, smiling to myself "Told you that you were a teenager"
Harry pinches my stomach playfully, sounding indignant "I am not a bloody teenager!"
"So are" I scoff teasing him, rolling my eyes.
"If I'm a teenager then you're a pensioner" he teases back, and I just grin again.
"Can't argue there, remind me to take my dentures out next time I suck your dick, give you the full experience"
"Joey!"
"Awe come'on Harry, it'll be like getting a blow job off a gummy shark, you'll love it" I say, trying not to laugh.
"I really just fucking can't with you sometimes, that mind of yours, I swear - where do you come up with this shit?" he laughs, resting his cheek against my hair and hugs me closer to him.
"My brain is a shit talking factory, I honestly could give lectures on it" I reply, enjoying the warmth of his torso against my back.
"Well I love your brain, got me hooked from the first time I met you, even if it shocks the hell out of me most of the time" he praises warmly, and my heart flutters at how adoring he sounds.
"There you go being sappy again" I say, deflecting with humour like I always do, but I do wish I could be as open and affectionate as him with my words sometimes.
That intimate moments with big emotions and words didn't intimidate me so much.
"So" he says, sounding curious "You gonna tell me what's been bothering you today?"
I purse my lips, pulling them to the side, deciding if it's something I actually want to talk about or not.
Normally, I'd say absolutely not, but I always have the urge to share things with him, it feels safe and while I've always liked to keep things to myself, he's the one person I don't want to keep things from.
This is something I really don't like to think about though, that I like to keep pushed far far back in my mind, it's excruciating to remember.
I clear my throat, deciding to just come out with it "It's my mums anniversary this week... On the 19th, the date she passed away"
"Oh Joey..." he sighs solemnly "Is there any I can do? Did you want to do something that day? Or we can just do nothing, if that makes you feel better" he says, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
I shrug my shoulders, keeping my voice quiet "Wouldn't know what to do really, I always just try and ignore it. It's by far the worst day of the year... Hurts to think about"
"Did you want to talk about it? You haven't really spoken much about her passing away... Or what happened. You don't have to, I'm here if you do want to though. I promise not to wrap you in cotton wool over it" he says earnestly, and I don't think he realises how grateful I am for how understanding he is about that, being caring but also understanding I don't want to be treated like glass that will shatter any second over it.
Can I tell him? I haven't spoken about it since I told Finn when we became close as teenagers, I only ever gave Dylan vague bare minimum details and she never cared to ask any further.
I take in a deep breath, holding it before I let it out slowly and my voice becomes quiet as I try and open that little box in my brain I keep the memories stored away in.
"I didn't actually get to see my mum the day she died..."
"What do you mean?" he urges gently.
I purse my lips, sighing "My mum had cervical cancer, it was too aggressive by the time they found it. She only had six months."
Harry doesn't say anything, thankfully, I think he knows I don't need him too, just presses his lips to the top of my head and hugs me tighter.
"So... I was on school holidays, and I'd spend everyday at the hospital when she was in hospice at the end, I'd painted her a picture and there was this local art show in my town, so I entered it because I really wanted to win it for her, she always loved my art so much" I clear my throat, swallowing down the tightness in it, and stare at his hands in front of me trying to focus on something.
"I was at the art show with my nan, my dads mum, the day she died... Mum just took a turn, they couldn't revive her - most ironic part was my painting won in my age group, and I wish it never did. Wish I never entered it - hated that painting after that day" I say solemnly, feeling guilt and hurt grip firmly at my insides again, it feels unbearable.
This is why I never talk about it.
Harry still stays silent, and now I'm wondering if it's just because he doesn't know what to say or he's worried if he talks I'll close up from talking about this again.
"Part of me thought she did it on purpose" I say, sounding lost in my head "You know... So I didn't have to be there when she passed, and then another part was so angry... Because she didn't wait for me" I blow out a trembling breath, clearing my throat again as I sniff, and wipe my nose quickly "But really, most of me just fucking hated myself and my stupid art, because I wasn't there when she needed me the most and I'll never see her again, can't say goodbye or tell her that I uhm... Tell how much she meant me"
I rub at my eyes trying to push the dampness back into them, and suck in a heavy breath to try and get rid of the feeling of my lungs constricting "I just miss her, and I missed the last day I could have seen her. All because of some stupid painting"
Harry sits up straight, pushing me up with him and turns me to look at him, moving his hands to hold my face and I avert my eyes so he can't see the glassy red state of them "Do you think it's your fault? That you weren't there? Is this why you never want anyone to see your artwork?"
I shrug my shoulders, trying to pull my face away but he only holds it even firmer, not letting me move and I can feel the emotions bubbling and boiling at the base of my throat, I just want them to go away, this hurts to much.
"It is my fault, I'm the one who chose to do it. It's just how it is, I accepted it" I say quietly, hating that my voice is shaking "Why would I want to show off something that meant I screwed up saying goodbye to my mum - that I let her down like that, if I never started doing my stupid drawings it would have never happened"
"Joey... That's not true" he says solemnly, sounding hurt that I think that as his shoulders drop, and he moves his head to try and catch my eye sight but I just try to move my face away again.
I don't need him to try and make me feel better, I've known this since the day she died, there's no changing it just because it hurts.
"You were a kid Joey, you were trying to do something nice for your mum that she loved, you could have never known that was going to happen" he tries to reason, but I just scrunch my eyes closed and wince, still trying to get him to let me go.
"Don't Harry" I beg him, my voice trembling as I choke on a breath and struggle with everything I have to keep my emotions away.
"No you need to listen to me" he says firmly, sounding so full of emotion and sincerity it's only threatening the string barely holding my already barely there composure at bay "Your mum would have been so proud-"
"Don't" I cut him off, pleading again as the tears filling my eyes start to spill over and I press my lips together flatly, shaking my head quickly "Please... Just don't"
"Listen to me" he urges again, turning my face to look at him but I close my eyes, knowing as soon as I see his face and the concerned sincere look that's on it with his brows creased it'll do me in completely.
"Your mum would have been so proud" he repeats "And she still would be so proud of you, none of that was your fault. It wouldn't have mattered if you had that art show or not, it could of been something else that day and you can't control that"
I press my lips together harder as I breathe heavily through my nose, feeling like the rock in my throat is pushing itself up and trying to fall out of my mouth.
Please stop.
His thumbs swipe over my cheeks to try and catch the tears there and he softens his voice "I know I never met your mum but I can only imagine how much she loved your art, if I love it as much as I do, then it must have been her favourite thing in the world and I don't think she would want you hating something she loved made by the person she loved the most. And if she was half as amazing as you are, she definitely would never want you to blame yourself or ever think it was your fault."
"Sometimes horrible things just happen Joey, your mum didn't want to leave you, and you wanted to be there for her, it's definitely fucking awful and unfair - but the one thing it will never be is your fault and your mum would know that. I know you can't say the words, but she would know how much you love her, she knew how much she meant to you and you did not let her down." he says, finishing his speech by pressing his lips against my forehead and holding them there before pulling back to look at me.
I growl in my throat, choking on it at how frustrated I am from how overhwlemed I feel, squeezing my eyes closed tighter and scrunching my face in pain.
Harry pulls me against him, wrapping his arms around me and I can't help how quickly I cling to him, gasping out a heavy sob that just breaks down the dam walls I keep built so high, and every feeling I keep trapped away that only gets a glimpse of brief light every few years comes flooding out.
"I miss her, I didn't want her to leave." I sob, gasping as I bury my face against his neck and he just hushes me wrapping me up tighter on his grip.
"I know baby, I know you do - you're allowed to miss her." he says softly, and his voice is filled with his own hurt over how filled with grief I sound but he still tries to keep it soothing.
I can't even talk, my shoulders are shaking with each strangle sob that tears through me, and I don't even think I cried like this when she died. I never really let myself, I was too angry, mostly at myself and dad was far too broken to be of use to anyone.
He was there for me the best he could be, and he really did try, but I honestly just think most of him died with my mum.
I know he's better these days, but I can still see it in his eyes when I look at him, he's just not the same, neither of us are.
It's the strangest feeling though, that gaping hole that's been sitting hollow and echoing with all of the pain from losing someone that meant everything to me, it seems to not be as big any more.
As fucking agonising and skin crawling as it feels, to feel all of these emotions that I ignore, it's no where near as bad as what it use to feel like.
I feel comforted, and I feel safe and a part of my brain is actually taking in what Harry is saying and the smallest niggling in me believes him - I really just don't think he would ever lie to me, I trust him to much.
So maybe... What he's saying is the truth.
Maybe it isn't my fault, maybe I shouldn't hate myself for it - maybe mum did know I wanted to be there.
It takes a good twenty minutes before I'm even remotely able to breathe properly. My voice raw and my eyes feel like they're on fire.
Harry just stays there though, he just stays with me. He doesn't seem annoyed, or like I'm overreacting, he just comforts me.
I don't think he realises just his presence alone is so soothing for me, and it's such an odd feeling to get use to, to have that from someone.
"You're okay love, I told you not to hide when you cry, you can trust me" he reassures me, rubbing his large hand up and down my back.
"I do trust you" I choke, sniffing as I start to steady my breaths and my crying is calming down to a few random tears "...But I'm pretty sure I got snot on your shirt and I'm really sorry - it's a really nice shirt" I laugh, but it cracks from my crying - god my emotions feel like they're bouncing all over the place.
I feel this adrenaline, but it's like relief at the same time, just flinging around my body.
Harry laughs, and it's loud, filled with affection while he kisses the side of my head "It's fine baby, thanks for decorating my shirt"
"I customised it for you" I joke weakly, finally down to a few sniffs as my crying subsides.
"I'm never washing it again" he quips and I can hear the smile in his voice.
"Harry..." I say slowly, leaning back to look at him and I'm sure I look fucking insane with puffy eyes and my face flushed with stained cheeks, but I wipe my hands over my face before looking at him again.
My vision is still a bit blurry from how hard I was crying, but I can still see those warm green eyes clear as day looking back at me with a lopsided smile.
"That's my name, don't wear it out" he mocks playfully, tilting his head to the side.
"Don't tease me can't you see I'm delicate you fuckin dickhead" I shove his shoulder, squinting my eyes at him, but lean forward quickly and peck his lips which earns a wide grin from him.
"Thank you" I say, before he can reply.
"Don't thank me" he says, looking over my face "I was just here for you like I promised, always will be"
I narrow my eyes at him playfully, pointing at him accusingly "You're sending me soft pretty boy, I'm onto you, you're trying to turn me into a sap just like you"
Harry scoffs, throwing himself back against the arm of the couch but grabs my arm and tugs me with him so I fall on his chest "You're the biggest sap there is, admit it"
I press my lips together to hide my smile as I look up at him stubbornly "Only for you - but if you ever repeat that to anyone, I will kick your ass again" I point at him with a warning raise of my brows.
Harry just watches me fondly, looking amused by a threat coming from someone that looks like they've just finished crying like a baby, which to be fair I did.
"Secrets safe with me baby" he muses, pretending to zip his lips before smoothing his hands down my back.
I lean up to kiss him, capturing his lips and trying to push all the adoration I have for him into it while his mouth folds against my own.
When I pull away he steals another quick peck, darting his eyes between my own "Wish I could have met your mum"
"I do too" I confess, but not feeling sad about it, it's becoming easier and easier to talk about her with him.
"Do you think she would have liked me?" he asks, sounding so genuinely interested in hearing about her and it's making my heart want to explode.
"She would have adored you" I tell him genuinely, smiling to myself "Every single thing about you, but the thing that would have made her absolutely crazy about you..." I chew on my lip, glancing down at his shirt and back to his face.
"Is how happy you make me"
***
My heart: